


Empty Balconies

by springbok7



Series: An Assortment of Teas and Biscuits [16]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: #TeamRasa, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-06-29 06:36:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15723963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/springbok7/pseuds/springbok7
Summary: James comes home to an empty flat. This is not expected.





	Empty Balconies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tsuyu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tsuyu/gifts), [Boffin1710](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boffin1710/gifts), [AsheTarasovich (natalieashe)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/natalieashe/gifts).



> Prompt by the lovely [Tsuyu](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Tsuyu) with a fabulous image from the dapper [Boffin1710](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Boffin1710) .
> 
> Dedicated to found family. You know who you are and why. Love you guys!
> 
> Unbeta-ed. All errors and typos are mine. Please feel free to let me know if you spot any and/or feel there should be additional tags. I welcome constructive criticism, but neither support or feed trolls.
> 
>    
>  _I do not own these characters. No infringement of copyright is intended and no profit is being made from this piece of fan-fiction._

 

Bond unlocked the door and came into the flat. Q's shoes sat in their usual spot, but it was quiet.

Too quiet.  When Q was at home sound filled the flat. Always.

He always talked to the cats when he was at home.

There was always music.

Always.

A shiver of fear slithered along James' spine.  His hand drifted closer to the Walthier that he'd -- again -- neglected to turn in with the rest of his kit. They all knew he'd kept it, but since he was unofficially -- sort of maybe on-the-way-to officially -- shacking up with the Quartermaster, the third most valuable MI6 asset, it was overlooked.

First line of defense and all that.

A glance around, the flat was still.

“Q, I’m ... home ...” as he stepped up onto the polished tile floor.

Pieces of a broken mug greeted him, scattered like porcelain petals across the dark grain. 

He searched the flat frantically, his eyes darting across every surface, looking for clues.

Nothing.

The silence felt oppressive.  Foreboding.

The flat was empty as well as silence, even the open balcony door not an uncommon sight since they were on the top storey of the building.

He couldn’t find his boffin nor the felines themselves. 

Nothing out of place other Q’s beloved mug smashed to pieces.

He was lifting his mobile to his ear with the speed dial for Eve already ringing when he spotted a tiny smear of crimson on the wall by the balcony door.

Eve picked up the line just as James reached the door frame, and realised one of the chairs they used to take breakfast together was overturned. It had been hidden by the wall ...

Eve's voice greeted him cheerily as he stepped over the threshold.

Her silence was instant as he started murmuring, "No. No. NO!"

There was a second smear of blood on the railing ... and a half emptied syringe lying beyond the upended chair.

His breath stopped up in his throat, his lungs constricted by iron bands tightening, tightening around his ribs, James stepped forward.

Eve’s voice in his ear, buzzing like cicadas on a summer day.  

Her words unheard, his knuckles white with the force of his grip on the rail.

He didn’t want to.

Wait for Eve.

Do not ...

He looked down.

The mobile shattered as it hit the ground, slid from nerveless fingers.

Q lay sprawled on the alley pavement five storeys below, the two cats sat on his unmoving chest, washing his face while his sightless eyes stared up at the grey sky.

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this, please consider leaving a comment or clicking that kudos button.


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